Sample Jamboree and the Strange Allure of Unpopular Ingredients

As I mentioned in my previous post, I have a strange fascination with drink ingredients that no one seems to like. I don’t know whether I simply feel sorry for them in an orphaned-puppy kind of way, or if it’s more of a desire to find a way to successfully employ something everyone else has deemed unusable. Probably a bit of both.

One ingredient that appears to have been resoundingly written off by the cocktail community (or at least the part of it I communicate with regularly) is Zirbenz Stone Pine Liqueur. (I‘ve also seen it listed as “Zirbenz Stone Pine Liqueur of the Alps“, which to me sounds less like a beverage and more like a 1920’s adventure novel . For the sake of brevity, I’ll just call it “Zirbenz” from here on out).

Does this innocent distillate deserve to be lumped in with the other pariahs of the drink world? I should clarify right up front that I’m not saying Zirbenz isn’t good…it’s just that I don’t know anyone who uses it.* I know several people who own a bottle, but rarely (if ever) go back to it after the initial breaking of the seal. Whether this is because they don’t care for the taste or find it difficult to mix with I can’t say. What I can say is that I hate to see something get kicked to the back of the liquor cabinet without a fair shake. And I also have a sick compulsion to salvage stuff that gets rejected. The more people claim something is unworkable, the more I’m intrigued by it and endeavor to find a use for it.

For those that haven’t sampled it, it’s piney. Extremely piney. Imagine grinding up a Christmas wreath, adding the floor sweepings from a 7th-grade shop class and steeping it in a jug of Everclear for a month. Now you’ve got the picture. Which again, doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just that a lot of people appear to have an aversion to things that taste of evergreen. Rick over at Kaiser Penguin recently discussed this in his investigation into why gin is such a hard-sell for many people.

Without going into the boring details of my personal quest to redeem Zirbenz, I’ll cut to the chase and say that I found gin to be an excellent base spirit to combine it with. I also discovered later on while browsing the Zirbenz site** that plenty of other folks apparently thought so too- most of the recipes listed are gin-centric.

So it’s at this point you’re probably thinking, “By all that is good and decent, why in the world would you pair a pine liqueur with another ingredient whose detractors cite overwhelming pine flavor as its biggest flaw?”

The answer is that I spent a tremendous amount of time and energy combining Zirbenz with virtually every other brand and style of base spirit in my liquor cabinet until I could definitively say that gin works best.

Actually, this is a complete lie. I came up with a drink name first and then hoped that the combination of ingredients that reflected the name would actually make a decent drink. The cosmic forces that govern booze nerd activity must have been on my side, because I think it actually does…


Zirbenz Kingsley

1.5 oz. gin
.5 oz. Zirbenz
2-3 dashes orange bitters
3 oz. tonic

Build first 3 ingredients in rocks glass with ice. Top with tonic and stir. Garnish with lime wedge.


Yep, it’s a just a Gin & Tonic. With Zirbenz. And a blip of bitters to wrap it all up. (It also helps the drink immensely to squeeze the lime wedge into it.)

A simple drink to be sure, but here’s the trick: The gin makes or breaks it. I won’t reveal how many different ones I tried, but I found that a lot of straightforward London drys don’t work well. Plymouth isn’t bad, but the ones I’d put at the top of the heap were North Shore #6 and Right. They’re both very soft, and I think it’s exactly this lack of sharpness that makes them match up so well with the Zirbenz, dulling it’s bite and making it whisper rather than shout. (I take this as some kind of divine sign, since both these gins arrived right in the middle of my experimentation period.)

So the moral of the story is this: If you’ve got some ingredient that just doesn’t seem to work in anything no matter what you try, do the following:

1) Persevere. There’s gotta be a use for it somewhere.
2) Tell me what it is. I have an irrational need to find homes for these things.




*I realize this sounds embarrassingly similar to the quote often (and apparently inaccurately) attributed to Pauline Kael about Nixon’s ‘72 presidential victory. Rest assured, I’m aware that someone has got to be using it.

**I also realized that I’m out of Zirbenz and need to get some more. I’ll bet there aren’t many people who have actually uttered those words.

Sample Jamboree and the Perils of Naming Drinks

I periodically receive samples of liquor in the mail. The purveyors of these fine products kindly package them up, send them on their way, and presumably hope I’ll like them enough to mention them by name.

I’m happy to say that in one way or another, I‘ve enjoyed almost everything that has arrived on my doorstep. There’s the occasional clunker, but by and large, my usual reaction is one of enthusiasm- I’m almost always jazzed to make a drink using a new ingredient.

Sometimes a list of recipes is included with my bottle of whatever. I like to browse these suggestions to get a sense of what other folks deem suitable uses for the product, but for me, the real fun is looking at something I’ve never tried before and thinking, “Hmmmm…what can I make with THAT?”

I’ll spare you a description of the “process” I employ when attempting to come up with a new drink. It’s untidy, inconsistent, and gloriously unhampered by any discernible logic. Guided mostly by my dubious intuition concerning what flavors and textures might work well together, I shamble around the kitchen in an orgy of trial-and-error. And every once in awhile something emerges that doesn’t seem half bad.

So I’ve got my recipe, I’m ready to write about it somewhere, and then I run right up against the hardest part of the whole project:

Naming the damn thing.

On rare occasions the drink just sort of names itself. But most of the time I’m struggling to come up with a moniker that isn’t too long, too silly, or too obscure. I often try to imagine a scenario wherein I’d order the proposed-titled drink at a bar. Would I immediately cringe upon saying it? Would I stumble over a lengthy string of syllables? Would the barkeep wordlessly greet my request with a withering expression of confusion and contempt?

See, to my way of thinking the best drink names have snap. They’ve got character and intrigue. And under ideal circumstances they should both elicit curiosity and communicate something. Longer drink names can do this, but I particularly like the ones that embrace brevity. (think “Zombie” vs. “Long Island Iced Tea” and you’ll see where I’m going).

So when it comes time to name an original drink, I usually start off completely paralyzed, and slowly try to find some aspect of the drink to latch onto and use as a beachhead. Here’s an example:

I recently received samples of Kilo Kai rum and cherry Heering. After tasting the sweet-ish and spicy Kilo Kai, the Heering seemed the perfect thing to match it up with. I decided that putting some whiskey in the mix to dry it out and fortify it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad idea either. I added in some Zirbenz pine liqueur (I’ll discuss my pathological need to employ unpopular and/or difficult ingredients in a another post) and a wisp of bitters and I thought I was onto something.

After some slight tinkering with proportions and taste-testing, the Bamboo Babe suggested the final touch should be rimming the glass and garnishing with a fresh piece of ginger. She was right- the flavor and aroma was exactly what was called for.


1 oz. Kilo Kai rum
1 oz. cherry Heering
.75 oz. rye
.5 oz. Zirbenz
1 dash Fee's Whiskey Barrel bitters

Shake with ice and strain into cocktail glass. Rub rim of glass with thin piece of freshly-sliced ginger and float in drink.


So now I had a drink that I was happy with. All that was left was the dreaded naming. As I looked over this concoction I observed the lustrous reddish color, pondered the tropical aspect of the rum, the classic pedigree of the rye, and the final flourish of…ginger. It was obvious- I’d call it the “Ginger Grant.”*

Then, during a quick Google search to check a detail or two, I ran across this post.

Dammit. I guess it’s true what they say about all the good ones being taken. Anyone got any ideas?

UPDATE 7/15/09: after much deliberation, I have dubbed this concoction the "Red-headed Castaway." This is not to be confused with the infamous "Red-headed Slut", which was officially eulogized and laid to rest last week during Tales of the Cocktail 2009.



*This would be obvious only to anyone who is familiar with the classic sitcom Gilligan’s Island. Hard as it is for me to conceive that there might be someone who is not acquainted with the show, I realize given my advanced age that it may not be the universal cultural touchstone it once was.

Iberian Dawn, Trans-Europe Express, and Thursday Drink Night

As has been noted elsewhere, there’s a great gig that happens every week here in the electronic ether. It’s called Thursday Drink Night, and it attracts all manner of adult beverage enthusiasts. It’s open to everyone, and it’s a hell of a lot of fun.

What exactly is Thursday Drink Night? I like to think of it as something vaguely akin to the TV show Iron Chef…but with booze. And a lot more participants.

Every Thursday night, these drink-tinkerers gather in the TDN chatroom to swap recipes based around a theme. Many drinks are conceived on-the-spot, and everyone gets a chance to discuss the results. It’s a nifty, no-pressure social event that never fails to entertain and educate. Plus, there’s no cover charge! (but it is BYOB).

Periodically, TDN is sponsored, which gives the attendees the chance to chat with the people behind the brands showcased that particular week. This was the case recently when Sandeman kindly sponsored the festivities and everyone got to fiddle with port. Many drink recipes were spawned that night, and yours truly contributed a couple to the roster:


Iberian Dawn

.5 oz. Sandeman tawny 10 yr. old port
.25 oz. Cointreau
2 dashes Fee’s peach bitters
Sparkling wine (I recommend a brut cava )

Put first 3 ingredients in Champagne flute. Fill with cava and enjoy!



Trans-Europe Express

1 oz. London Dry Gin
.75 oz. Sandeman Founder’s Reserve
.5 oz. St. Germain elderflower liqueur

Build over ice in rocks glass and squeeze in a lime wedge. Stir and enjoy!


The Trans-Europe Express is a great example of just how fun TDN can be. Soon after I submitted the recipe, a few people commented that they thought the drink would be better served by using Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur instead of St. Germain. This new version was immediately whipped up, assessed, and declared to be a perfectly suitable variation by those who tried it (assuming I’m recalling things correctly…the later hours of TDN often don’t make it to memory 100% intact. Fortunately, transcripts are available). This spirit of communal trial-and-error is, for me, a fundamental part of what makes TDN so enjoyable.

(By the way, if you prefer the version with the Canton, it’s called the Trans-Siberian Express.)

So if you’ve got A) access to the Web, B) a halfway decent liquor cabinet, and C) some free time on a Thursday evening, swing by and get in on the fun! Click here to belly up to the bar.